Thanksgiving: Not Crazy, Just Irish

I spent Thanks­giv­ing at my mater­nal grandparent’s house with my par­ents, all of five sets of aunts and uncles, sev­eral great-aunts and uncles, and I still can’t count how many cousins (I’m the old­est of my gen­er­a­tion).  My aunts kindly reminded me that my inces­sant insom­nia, ten­dency toward inde­ci­sion (often result­ing in exe­cut­ing all options in lieu of choos­ing), and inabil­ity to put on weight are not signed of immi­nent men­tal dete­ri­o­ra­tion but rather Roach fam­ily matri­lin­eal char­ac­ter­is­tics that I have embod­ied with greater fidelity than any­one in the fam­ily since my grandma.  “Hearty peas­ant stock,” as my dad likes to put it.  What a relief…